Angels Fall Down
by Numb3rsfan
Summary: A child of magic shows up in Ealdor. Back in Camelot Merlin becomes gravely ill. Are the two somehow connected? Will Merlin die before all is revealed? -Set after Season 1 but before Season 2.- -Chapters 5 till the end will be written by myself and my friend Hallaromen.-
1. Micah

**Angels Fall Down**

By

**Numb3rsfan**

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, H/C, possible violence, possible OOC

Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin, this is just for the enjoyment of the reader.

Summary: A child of magic shows up in Ealdor. Back in Camelot Merlin becomes gravely ill. Are the two somehow connected? Will Merlin die before all is revealed? -Set after Season 1 but before Season 2.-

_MERLINMERLINMERLIN_

**-Chapter One-**

Mist swirled around trees, grass and what few livestock were left to graze outside. All of a sudden a flash lit up the night sky revealing slow moving clouds. Seconds after the flash appeared, a low rumble of thunder could be heard off in the distance.

Inside her small home Hunith quickly woke up with a start, the hair on the back on her neck rising as the low rumble of thunder faded to nothing.

Slowly Hunith sat up, gathering her blanket around her as she stood up and moved to the window to look out at the night sky. She saw a flash of lightning and heard another rumble of thunder. A storm was definitely coming in and from the look of the lightning and the sound of the thunder it was going to be a bad one.

A small wistful smile came over Hunith's face as she suddenly remembered all of the times her son Merlin had come to her bed shaking with fright over a thunderstorm. She had lost count of the times she was sitting up in her bed holding her son who was shaking and crying softly, holding his tiny hands over his ears while Hunith was gently rocking him, trying to calm him down.

That was nothing but a memory now for Merlin was no longer that little boy who was scared of thunderstorms. He was a young man now and living in Camelot, being trained in secret by her good friend Gaius who was also the court physician, and he was also the personal man servant to the future king of Camelot, Prince Arthur. Never in her life would Hunith have pegged her son to be in that position. She had hoped when she had sent him off to Camelot that he would be safe and happy and somehow manage to keep his secret safe, and somehow he had managed to do so, even though Hunith now realized how dangerous it must be for her son.

Returning to her bed Hunith reached under her small pillow and retrieved a small wood carving of a running horse. Merlin had done the carving when he had only been three years old and in fact it was because of that carving that Hunith finally had had to accept the fact that her son was different. Sure she had known he had magic even before he could talk; memories of dishes flying through the air came to mind then, but when she saw Merlin just stare at a piece of wood and slowly a horse carving came out of it…that had really scared her because she knew that her child's life would never be normal.

Running her hands lovingly over the carving, Hunith smiled at it as a few tears streaked down her face. She really missed Merlin, missed seeing his loving, smiling face, missed hearing his laughter and his stories but most of all she missed his voice because he looked like and sounded so much like his father Balinor. Balinor had been the Last Dragonlord. She had hid him from King Uther and against her better judgment she had fallen in love with him, and in a fit of passion she and Balinor had made love and it was through that that Merlin had been conceived.

Shaking her head Hunith put the carving back under her pillow and moved to lay down again when something stopped her. It was a sound that was all too familiar to her. It was the sound of a child crying. Standing up once more Hunith walked outside, a flash of lightning lighting up the environment long enough for Hunith to take a quick look around.

"Hello?" Hunith called, squinted out in to the darkness.

When no answer was forthcoming, Hunith walked out farther. She walked past a few houses, going to the edge of the small village of Ealdor.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She called again.

At first she heard nothing but then she heard some sniffling. Curious she walked forward a few steps. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky and thanks to the light Hunith saw something she wasn't expecting to see.

A young boy with dark hair was kneeling next to a body. The boy had tears in his eyes and his entire head was wet as if he had been standing out in the rain, but it hadn't started raining yet.

"Please…" the young boy said, looking up in the darkness towards Hunith. "Help him…"

_MERLINMERLINMERLIN_

The entire village of Ealdor was awake. Hunith had called for help and shortly afterwards the village had woken to her calls. Now forty minutes after finding the child, Hunith and the boy were in her home as the rain was now coming down hard outside.

The child was shirtless and wrapped in a blanket. He was sitting in Hunith's bed while Hunith herself was trying to dry the boy's hair.

"What is your name?" Hunith asked.

She heard the child sniffle a few times before a weak and tired, "Micah," escaped the boy's lips.

"Micah. That is a nice name. You can call me Hunith." Hunith said. She paused for a moment to put down the small towel she had used to dry Micah's hair before speaking again.

"I'm very sorry…about your father. I'm sure he loved you very much." Hunith said.

She watched Micah look at her with red, tear stained eyes and it was in that moment that she silently thought that Micah looked so much like her Merlin did at that age.

"He wasn't my father. He was my older brother, Samuel. Father and mother died when I was just a baby. Samuel raised me…and now he's gone. I'm all alone now." Micah said, lowering his head to rest it on his knees.

Hunith watched the boy sob for a moment before she wrapped her arms around the child, trying to comfort him.

"It's okay Micah. Everything is going to be alright." Hunith whispered. She felt Micah shake his head and heard him whisper, "No it won't. You don't understand."

Slowly Micah raised his head and fixed Hunith with a frightened look that reminded her of Merlin.

"What don't I understand?" Hunith asked. In answer Micah looked down for a moment before he looked across the room. Smoothly he raised his left hand and a wooden cup that had been on the small table in the kitchen slowly rose up and floated over and in to his hand.

"I have magic." He whispered in a frightened voice.

All Hunith could do was stare at the boy in shock. It was happening all over again…and she knew it.


	2. Sickness

**-Chapter Two-**

"…really…Merlin?"

Slowly Merlin picked himself up off of the floor. He grimaced when the pain in his head made itself known as he stood up, so he put his right hand to the side of his head as he gazed down on the floor. He had just finished serving Prince Arthur his lunch. He remembered gathering up the remains of the Prince's dinner, his empty wine glass and the half empty pitcher of wine before making a beeline towards the door. He remembered hearing a loud squeak on the floor and then his feet flying out from under him and then…nothing. Had he hit the floor so hard that he had knocked himself out?

A quick glance down at his blue shirt told him that that was a possibility because not only was his shirt now sporting a wet stain thanks to the spilled wine, but small pieces of chicken, bread and tomato seeds were also adorning the wet portions of his shirt.

Merlin could feel his cheeks burning red in embarrassment and he could only hope that Prince Arthur hadn't noticed the whole scenario but a quick glance to his left saw Prince Arthur beside him, hands on his hips looking more than a little annoyed at what had just happened.

"Sorry…I…" Merlin said, shaking his head a little. He really didn't know what to say about the mess, other than he'd clean it up.

Merlin heard Arthur sigh and just when he thought Arthur would order him to clean up the mess and get out; Arthur surprised him by asking, "Are you alright?"

Taking a chance Merlin lowered his right hand and glanced at it. Where flesh met head Merlin could see blood.

Noting the look on his man servant's face, Arthur quickly snaked his hand out and snatched Merlin's right wrist. Taking a good look at it, Arthur quickly saw the blood on it and knew where it had come from.

"Only you Merlin…" Arthur muttered, releasing Merlin's wrist. At that Merlin seemed to get a little uncomfortable as he tried to brush his shirt off.

"It's fine!" Merlin replied.

Arthur shook his head. He was going out hunting later that day and he didn't want his man servant passing out on the job because of some stupid head injury so he did the only thing he could do. Arthur physically took hold of Merlin's shoulders and pushed the younger man towards the door and away from the mess.

"Go. Get checked out by Gaius." He said.

"But…the mess!" Merlin protested. He watched Arthur open the door to his chambers and then resume the great Throwing out of Merlin.

"I can get someone else to clean it up, just do as I say!" Arthur replied before slamming his bedroom door shut more or less in Merlin's face.

Sighing, Merlin allowed himself to wince as he put his right hand back up to his head. It was now really pounding as if King Uther had thrown a banquet with many thousands of instruments right in Merlin's head.

As Merlin slowly made his way to Gaius, he began to go through that days events in his mind. Truth be told that wasn't the first time he had tripped, hit his head and passed out. No, that was the sixth time that week and the second time that day. It was the first time that someone had actually seen him do it though.

Why was he all of a sudden so clumsy? Sure he was known as Arthur's bumbling servant half of the time but he had never been this clumsy before!

Entering in to the medical wing, aka Gaius's chambers, Merlin found the older man hard at work seemingly slaving away over a small glass bottle full of some sort of bubbling greenish liquid.

Gaius had been facing the door when Merlin had walked in, so out of habit the old man had looked up, giving an immediate raised eyebrow to Merlin when he saw the younger man holding the side of his head.

"Do I even want to know?" Gaius asked, putting down the glass bottle and moving over to Merlin who had eased himself in to his seat at the table.

"I don't know. It keeps happening, Gaius." Merlin replied, lowering his hand so Gaius could examine his head.

He had to physically resist the urge to flinch away in pain when he felt Gaius's fingers part his hair and brush over the still bleeding wound.

"What keeps happening?" Gaius asked.

"Am I normally that clumsy?" Merlin muttered, having to resist the urge to shake his head because Gaius was still examining him, "I keep…slipping up, smacking my head on something…and then waking up on the floor."

Gaius paused a minute after Merlin said that; his aged mind filling with probable causes for Merlin's problem.

"How many times has it happened?" Gaius asked.

"Six times this week. That was the second time today. I was just clearing the table from Arthur's lunch, next thing I know I'm waking up on the floor of his chambers." Merlin said.

He felt Gaius press something to his head. The acute burning sensation on his scalp made him yelp and flinch a little.

"Oh, stop whining Merlin." Gaius said, continuing his work. Even he had to admit that Merlin could be a little whiney when it came to treatment of his injuries.

"That hurts!" Merlin protested.

"It's supposed to hurt! I'd be worried if it didn't!" Gaius shot back. After a moment he put down the wooden applicator that he had grabbed before studying the results of his handiwork.

Merlin's wound, while nasty looking had stopped bleeding. Thankfully the cut was hidden by the boy's hair so no one would notice unless they were standing where he himself was standing now.

Gaius sighed. He was more worried than he let on about Merlin's sudden clumsiness. It wasn't normal and it suggested a very serious underlying problem. But what that problem was he couldn't even hazard to guess. He just hoped and prayed that Merlin wasn't developing some type of brain bleed or worse; something he had only read about in books but had never seen before; a brain tumor.

"How does it look?"

Merlin's question snapped Gaius out of his self absorbed musings. Smoothly the older man patted Merlin on the shoulder.

"You'll live." He replied.

Merlin gave a look to his friend and mentor that told the older man he wasn't amused. Sighing, Merlin stood up so he could return to his duties but just as he had risen up the world around him seemed to spin about wildly.

Automatically Merlin paled considerably as he slapped his right hand down on the table in an attempt to balance himself. Gaius who was already half way back to his work bench suddenly looked back at the boy when he heard Merlin slap the table.

"Merlin? Are you alright?" Gaius asked, taking in Merlin's countenance. He saw that Merlin's face and skin were very pale and that the boy was now dripping in sweat where he had been bone dry only a minute before.

"Merlin?" Gaius asked once more.

Merlin was trembling, his blue eyes stared ahead at the door in a totally unfixed way. It was plain to see that the boy was trembling, fighting not to keel over entirely. But even as Gaius was beginning to make his way over to the warlock he saw a small air and spit bubble form over Merlin's lips.

The second it popped, Merlin lurched over and began throwing up on the floor in earnest. Gaius quickened his pace, grabbing on to the young warlock before he could fall to the floor.

"Merlin, talk to me!" Gaius said rubbing the warlock's back in an attempt to comfort him. He knew there was nothing he could do for Merlin while the boy was constantly puking, except just be there and let Merlin know he wasn't leaving.

After a good thirty minutes of non stop puking, Merlin had finally emptied out the entire contents of his stomach out on to the floor. By the time he was done he felt absolutely drained, so much so that Gaius and Gwen, whom Gaius had recruited to help him, had to literally pick Merlin up and carry him to his bed.

"Is he going to be alright?" Gwen asked once Merlin was tucked safely away in his bed. Merlin's eyes were shut and if she didn't know any better Gwen would have said that Merlin was sleeping, but from the way he looked she knew that he wasn't sleeping, he was very sick.

"I hope so," Gaius replied, glancing up at Gwen for a moment before looking back down at the now unconscious lad, "I hope so."


	3. Diagnosis

**-Chapter Three-**

Hunith stood behind Micah as the boy tearfully watched the funeral pyre burn. The whole entire village of Ealdor had shown up to mourn with him the death of his brother, even though none of the villagers knew who they were. Because of the boy's talents, Hunith had decided to take it upon herself to watch out for the boy. He would need someone to look after him, someone who understood what it was like to live with magic.

For a brief moment Hunith thought about taking the boy to Camelot so he could not only meet Gaius, but also Merlin. Perhaps the two of them could help the boy more than she ever could?

"I'll finish what you started Sammy, I'll get to Camelot…some way, some how I'll get there." Micah whispered under his breath. It was only by luck that Hunith actually heard what the boy said, and it shocked her greatly.

"Camelot?" she asked, "You and your brother were traveling to Camelot?"

Wiping his tears away Micah nodded his head. That wasn't really a big secret, but the reason why they were going to Camelot was. They were going to see a friend of the family; a physician who went by the name of Gaius. Micah didn't remember him but Samuel had, which was why they were going to see him in the first place.

"My son Merlin lives in Camelot. A good friend of mine, Gaius looks after him." Hunith said, trying to encourage the boy to open up and talk to her.

Micah however didn't speak. He really didn't care about Hunith's son at all. Why should he? He didn't know Merlin and didn't have any plans to meet him either.

"I _have_ to get to Camelot soon, to repair whatever damage has already been done." Micah said. He saw Hunith's confused face but even so he wouldn't elaborate more. His brother had been a warlock as well; a very powerful one at that. It was an accident, truly an accident but one that could not just be whisked away by magic. Micah deeply regretted helping his brother conjure the powerful spell but what was done was done, he just hoped no one was going to die because of it.

Sighing, Micah moved to continue on his journey but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "You cannot make it to Camelot without any provisions, Micah." Hunith said, receiving nothing but a pair of shrugging shoulders in response. "If you really are in need of getting to Camelot, I will take there." She said.

At that Micah brightened up considerably. "You would? Really?" he asked. Hunith smiled and nodded her head. She had been missing her son, and Gaius. Taking Micah to Camelot was a good excuse as any to see them again.

Gently she led the boy back to her home so they could pack for the long journey ahead.

_MERLINMERLINMERLIN_

Three hours had passed since Merlin had collapsed and in that span of time Gaius had examined him, tried to make some sort of diagnosis and cleaned up the mess Merlin had made. Gwen had been the one to inform Arthur about what had happened to Merlin and as of yet, Gaius had not seen the prince.

He honestly didn't know what to make of it, whether he should be alarmed, surprised or indifferent that Arthur hadn't shown up to find out the condition of his man servant.

On the fourth hour Gaius entered Merlin's bedroom bringing with him a bucket filled with cool water. The young lad had developed a slight fever and so needed the rags to help him cool down.

Dipping a rag in the water, Gaius wrung it out and placed it on Merlin's forehead.

"How is he?"

Eyebrow raised, Gaius looked towards the doorway to see Prince Arthur standing there. Arthur was wearing his bleached red shirt, dark pants and weather worn boots. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were on his sick man servant.

"Not well, sire." Gaius said out of respect, "I fear he is getting worse."

Hearing that, Prince Arthur made his way in to Merlin's bedroom to get a better look at the boy. Merlin was deathly pale with red rings around his eyes. He was covered in sweat and trembling ever so slightly.

"Has he woken up at all?" Arthur asked.

Despite his cool exterior, inside Arthur was filled with worry. When Gwen had told him Merlin was ill, Arthur didn't know what to say. He blamed himself for not seeing that his man servant was sick and he blamed himself for giving Merlin a bad time that afternoon. For three hours Arthur had paced around his room and gone horseback riding to try and calm down but everything he did to try and block out the fact that his friend and man servant was ill only reminded him of Merlin.

"No sire." Gaius replied.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Arthur asked. He noted Gaius uncertainty and turned his head just enough to see the physician glance down at the sick boy.

"Gaius?" Arthur asked.

Gaius sighed.

"I have only ever heard about this sire, but I believe that Merlin is suffering from something known as a brain tumor. From everything I've read those that have it do not survive for long."

Arthur was silent, his arms still folded across his chest as he gazed upon Merlin's pale face.

"And how does one treat this tumor?" Arthur asked.

"It can't be treated sire, at least with…" Gaius paused, "conventional methods."

Arthur fixed Gaius with a look, knowing what the physician was proposing.

It was written all over the older man's face and Arthur could see it in his eyes.

"Magic. Are you saying that the use of magic is the only way to save Merlin?" Arthur asked.

Gaius nodded his head. "I'm afraid so sire." He replied.

Arthur was silent, not knowing what to do. He didn't want his friend to die but he also knew the laws and he knew what his father did to those who knew and or practiced magic. Would Arthur really just ignore his father's ruling on the matter just to save his servant?

He had done it once when Merlin had drunk from the poisoned chalice. Arthur had gone and gotten the one flower that could save Merlin's life, but this instance was different. He wouldn't just be ignoring his father's wishes he would basically be slapping his father in the face and putting Camelot in possible danger all for the sake of his servant.

"I know what you ask of me Gaius," Arthur began after a moment, "but I'm sorry. I cannot do it. I cannot allow a sorcerer to step foot in Camelot…even if it's for Merlin."

"Then you are condemning Merlin to death!" Gaius said. He normally didn't talk back to anyone like that except Merlin of course but this was Arthur, and Gaius knew that Arthur wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Arthur looked once again at Gaius and for the first time Gaius could see the pain written in Arthur's face. It was clear to the physician that Arthur didn't want to say those words but he had had to.

"I know Gaius, I know." Arthur whispered.


	4. Revelation

_Author's Notes: Many thanks to my beta, Loopstagirl! You are the best!_

**-Chapter Four-**

It was midday. King Uther Pendragon, his son Arthur and his ward Morgana were in the Great Hall having lunch; well…Uther and Morgana were having lunch. Arthur on the other hand was just sitting in his chair staring down at the food on his plate. The two turkey legs were moist and he was sure they were delicious, as were the slices of tomato, lettuce and the four freshly picked strawberries. They were all favorites of his but he didn't eat them.

"What's the matter Arthur?"

Slowly Arthur looked up to see his father take his goblet and sip on some of the wine that was in it.

At first Arthur didn't know what to say. What could he say? He knew the consequences of telling Uther what Gaius needed. Uther would be furious at the mention of sorcery and he would probably have Gaius either thrown in the dungeon or in to the stocks just for bringing up the subject.

"Did Merlin lose your favorite shirt again?" Morgana asked, trying to be funny. Uther chuckled a little at the question presented to Arthur because he knew all about his son's bumbling servant. Hell, he was the one that had more or less assigned the boy the position as Arthur's servant.

Arthur fixed Morgana with a look that bordered on annoyance. He was so tempted to tell her to mind her own business but his father was present in the room and King Uther didn't like anyone to back talk his ward, even Arthur.

"No Morgana, Merlin did not lose my nightshirt again. He's grievously ill…if you must know." Arthur replied.

While Morgana's face took on a look of shock, Uther just kept on eating. It was obvious that he hardly cared about Merlin's wellbeing. In fact, the last time Merlin had become sick Uther had more or less forbidden Arthur from trying to save him. Thankfully Arthur had disobeyed his father by riding out to get the Mortaeus flower but the consequences of that decision had almost cost Merlin his life.

Arthur had gotten the flower but when he had returned to Camelot he had been arrested. Attempting to give the flower to Uther had proved fruitless because the King had done nothing but crush it and drop it on the floor and it was only by luck that Arthur had managed to grasp the crushed flower through the bars of the cell.

"He's always ill." King Uther said, taking a sip of his wine goblet again before placing it down on the table.

"This time it is worse father. Gaius holds out little hope for him." Arthur said.

Arthur heard Morgana gasp in shock at that news. He knew that although Morgana liked to pick on Merlin, she did respect the young servant.

"I am sorry Arthur; I know he is a good friend." Morgana said.

Uther however wasn't impressed by her sudden emotional outbursts. "We do not have servants to befriend them; we have servants to do the menial work around the castle. I thought you understood this Arthur." Uther angrily muttered, in utter disbelief that is son had said what he did.

That statement irked Arthur greatly. His father could be such an arrogant ass sometimes!

"Father, our servants are people too. They deserve respect from us as we deserve respect from them. Respect cannot be given it needs to be earned, and Merlin has certainly earned my respect." Arthur said.

He stood up from his chair and turned to leave the room, but not before saying "I know you think of Merlin as nothing more than my man servant, but to me he is more than that. To me he is my friend and I don't let friends die needlessly."

_MERLINMERLINMERLIN_

Slowly Merlin opened his eyes, gazing around his dimly lit bedroom in confusion. Gently he pushed himself up in to a sitting position but almost immediately he regretted it as his head exploded in agony.

"Merlin? Gaius, he's awake!"

Merlin winced a little when he heard the voice of Gwen call out to Gaius. The voice, even though it was soft, sent bolts of pain that raced through his head. Moments went by before he felt the corner of his bed sink down a little and a hand touch his cheek.

"How are you feeling?" Gaius softly asked.

He noted that Merlin still had a high fever, and the fact that the boy was holding the side of his head told the physician that the lad had a headache. "I feel like I've been run over by a herd of horses and then dumped in to a cauldron of boiling water." Merlin mumbled.

Gaius chuckled. Despite being sick Merlin was still trying to crack a joke.

"What's wrong with me?" Merlin quietly muttered.

Gaius sighed, glancing at Gwen who had just taken a seat on the other side of Merlin's bed. Gently Gwen reached over and took hold of Merlin's free hand, keeping the grip comforting. Gaius had told her his diagnosis. It had shocked and upset her and she wasn't even the one who was sick! She couldn't imagine Merlin's reaction when Gaius decided to tell him, which was why she took hold of Merlin's hand in the first place, to offer the lad some comfort.

"I believe you have something that's called a brain tumor. It's a mass that is lodged somewhere in your brain." Gaius explained.

Merlin was silent for a moment before saying, "That doesn't sound good."

"No, it isn't. There is no way to treat a brain tumor without the aid of magic and…" Gaius paused, not wanting to say the rest.

"And Uther banned magic in Camelot years ago." Merlin finished. The situation was clear to him then. He was dying and Gaius could do nothing to stop it.

"Does Arthur know?" Merlin asked.

Gaius nodded his head. "Arthur knows, Merlin. He wants no part of sorcery here in Camelot." Gaius replied.

Merlin was silent as he tried to think things through. The Great Dragon had told him his destiny was to help Arthur create Albion. How could he do that if he was dead? In fact, how could he even protect Arthur if he was dead? Something wasn't right here. This couldn't be his destiny…could it?

"How much time do I have?" Merlin asked. He was doing his best to appear brave and hopeful for the sake of his friends and his mentor but inside he was screaming in fear because he felt that he was going to die; Arthur was going to let him die for the sake of Camelot.

"It is impossible to know for sure Merlin. Three weeks, possibly more." Gaius replied.

Three weeks, plenty of time to come up with a cure. All they needed was someone that knew the spell to combat the tumor. Simple right?

Merlin nodded his head and with the help of Gaius and Gwen he lay back down in his bed. He was going to die. He just knew it.

The Great Dragon had lied to him. His wasn't some great destiny to help Arthur create Albion, no it was his destiny to die alone in this bed.

"Don't give up Merlin." Gaius said, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder when he saw the silent distress in the lad's eyes.

"You know me Gaius, I never do." Merlin replied in a tone of voice that didn't convince the physician.

Slowly Gaius stood and left Merlin's room with Gwen trailing right behind him. He had to hurry. For Merlin's sake he had to find a cure.


	5. Identity

_Author's Notes: The continuation of this story will be co authored by myself and my good friend Hallaromen._

_**Hallaromen: Hi everyone. :D We've got some good things planned for this story. **_

**-Chapter Five-**

A day had slowly passed the city of Camelot by and in that span of time; it seemed that most everyone had learned that Merlin was sick. However, no one except Arthur, Uther, Morgana, Gwen and Gaius exactly knew the extent of the warlock's sickness. It was Merlin's request that it remain that way.

He didn't want the pity. He didn't want their regret for his life that would undoubtedly be cut short. He didn't want the possibility that hoards of people coming to visit him, as if to pay their respects. Merlin wasn't ready for a funeral. By the Gods, he wasn't dead yet! There was no need for an early wake. And that's why he chose to keep his illness under wraps. Besides, what was one more secret to add to the mix?

Gwen had rarely left Merlin's side, having been given permission to remain with him for as long as he would need her. When it came to Merlin, Morgana was very understanding. She knew what the boy meant to them all, even though in the eyes of most he was just Arthur's manservant.

Merlin still felt like he was part of a viewing and he didn't like it. All the delicate touches and soft voices were irritating him, even though loud voices made his head throb even worse. All the caution was making him feel breakable, like one of the porcelain vases in the castle. Gwen's vigil was sweet. He appreciated her care and consideration, but all of her mothering was quite overwhelming. He felt a little smothered.

The warlock knew he only had a few weeks left (maybe less), but Merlin honestly didn't think he was going to drop dead this instant. He wanted some alone time – some peace and quiet. Merlin wanted to read his magic book. He wanted to look out his window. He just wanted to spend time, alone and just being, in his room. Soon, Merlin wouldn't get to do that. That kind of made him sad, but the warlock did not tell her that. He also didn't tell her he wanted to be unaided.

"Merlin you must eat," Gwen said. She was seated right beside Merlin's bed with a bowl of chicken broth in her hands. In the broth was a small dinner roll that she had made herself. Gaius had warned her that it was possible that as the tumor grew Merlin would start to deny any intake of food whatsoever. She didn't want to believe it to be so, but now, only a day later, she saw it to be the truth.

The boy was lying down, the blanket half way draped over his lean frame. He was pale, more so than usual and the red rings that had been around his eyes the day before were much more noticeable now.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," Merlin muttered, not even looking at the bowl of broth in Gwen's hands. He really wasn't. The thought of food made his stomach roll, as did the smell of it. The scent was nauseating. It took all of his strength and determination not to throw up.

"Please Merlin? You need to try," Gwen begged, placing a warm hand on the warlock's shoulder. She was worried – no, she was terrified. Gwen was losing her best friend. There was nothing she could do about the situation! Never before had she felt so helpless.

Feeling that pressure the boy turned his head and fixed tired looking blue eyes on Gwen.

"I can't Gwen. I'd only bring it back up," Merlin softly replied through dry, cracked lips.

The servant girl had to fight hard not to start bawling her eyes out when she looked in to Merlin's eyes and saw that they were devoid of life; devoid of soul, devoid of what made Merlin the boy he was inside. All that there was left was a seemingly lifeless shell.

Gwen shook her head. "You can't give up Merlin. Gaius will find a way. You have to believe that."

The boy wanted to believe Gwen but deep in his heart, he knew that his odds of survival were slim at best. Without the use of magic he would die. The spell to cure him would have to be a very powerful incantation and the kicker was that neither Arthur nor Uther would allow any sorcerer to come within a thousand miles of Camelot. In fact, if a sorcerer was discovered, his or her head would be on the chopping block the very next day; it was only by a miracle alone that Merlin hadn't been discovered yet.

"Sure Gwen, whatever you say," Merlin replied, rolling back over on to his side, facing away from the servant girl. He sighed as he closed his eyes. Gods, he was so tired. He figured Gwen would leave him alone – at least for a little bit. It was what he wanted, but Merlin had no energy to do the things he wanted to do.

Biting her lip Gwen rose up from her chair and left the warlock's room, closing the door behind her. Once she was in the main chamber she allowed herself to break down and start to cry. "He's given up Gaius," Gwen said in between sobs."You should have seen him in there. That look in his eyes! He's not going to fight this. Why?"

Putting down the medical book he had been reading, the court physician went over to the servant girl and guided her to a chair. "Finding out that you are dying and knowing that the only cure is banned is never easy on anyone." Gaius muttered. His voice was soft and gentle. It conveyed the concern and sadness, but only just a little bit.

"He's done so much for so many people. Gaius there has got to be something we can do for him!" Gwen countered, raising a tear stained face to study the court physician. Her gaze hardened as her mind went to Arthur. "And how dare he? How dare Arthur Pendragon not let a sorcerer help him! Merlin was right he is a prat! How dare he call Merlin his friend? He has no right!"

Gaius sighed. "I know, Gwen. I know. I do wish things were different, but they aren't, the physician said. "In the meantime, I am doing everything I can for him, everything medically possible, but without a cure…it's only a matter of time."

"Oh, Gaius, I can't imagine a world without him in it. His mother will be heartbroken," whispered Gwen. She wrung her hands and chewed on her lip. "We ought to write her."

"Indeed," Gaius muttered. He walked away from Gwen and grabbed a blank scroll and his quill and ink. "I suppose I should do it since he is my ward."

Sitting down at the small table where he and Merlin usually shared their evening meals, Gaius positioned the ink within reach beside the scroll, which he had promptly laid out directly before him. For the longest time he stared down at the scroll wondering what to write. What could he write that could convey his feelings on the matter? Should he be blunt, callous and cold or should he be warm, caring and emotional in his letter?

Sighing, he finally picked up the quill and dipped it in to the ink._ "Dear Hunith,"_ he wrote, _"It seems like only yesterday you sent your son in to my care. I promised that I would look after him and keep him safe and I have done so to the best of my ability. I may only be his uncle, but I consider Merlin to be the son I never had, which is why it pains me so to write this letter."_

Gaius paused, looking up from the scroll. He didn't want to write the letter, but Hunith was Merlin's mother and she needed to know what was going on; even if the truth would hurt as much as Gaius knew it would. He owed her the truth._"Even I am not sure how it has happened, but Merlin has grown increasingly ill. I fear he has not got that much longer to live. He may not say it, but I can see that he misses you dearly and so I feel it is my obligation to you and the boy that I ask you to please hurry to Camelot before it is too late."_

After signing the scroll Gaius put the quill down. He knew he should write more, perhaps explain in greater detail what was going on but he physically couldn't. He knew that if he tried he too would break down in to tears and it simply would not do for Gwen to see him cry.

_MERLINMERLINMERLIN_

Micah sighed, sitting near the small campfire as he watched Hunith pack up what little she had brought with her. More than once Micah had wanted to tell her the truth. He had wanted to tell her who he truly was, but he couldn't. He wanted to tell her what had happened and what he was trying to fix. She already knew he had magic, but she didn't know that he was a Druid. She didn't know that his real name was Mordred. It wasn't safe for her to know his true name.

Mordred hated the pretense. He hated going by the name of Micah, but that name was the only thing that kept him safe. He still didn't understand how the bandits had figured out who he and his best friend Samuel were, but somehow they did. They had been crazy with rage or greed. Rumor had it; anyone who turned a druid in to Uther received a hefty sum.

The boy closed his eyes. He wished to block out the mental image of Samuel being struck down. It hurt to remember. It hurt to even think about. Hunith didn't know – she didn't need to. He had identified Samuel as his brother, which was the perfect cover. It was something he and Samuel had come up with just a week before when they had set out from the Druid camp. Besides, Samuel had been like a brother to him. He had joked with Mordred. He had protected him until that fateful attack. He had fed him. Samuel had been Mordred's family.

The only thing that Mordred had told that had been the truth was their destination. He and Samuel had been on their way to Camelot and their reasoning for doing so was simple. A sorcerer had put a spell on the people of Camelot; well…all the people who had magic. The spell was a simple one - it would kill those who had magic. Mordred could really care less about Merlin since the warlock had betrayed him, but Morgana? Mordred liked her and would do anything to protect her. To check on her well being and to put an end to the curse and to heal those already afflicted by it, he and Samuel had ventured off to Camelot. An easy task; only…it wasn't so easy now.

"How much longer until we reach Camelot?" he asked, standing up and moving over to Hunith to help her pack.

"Three days; two if we really hurry." Hunith replied with a smile. Mordred nodded his head in understanding. He really hated to lie to someone as nice as Hunith; even though she was Merlin's mother, but he had to keep up this pretense for just a little while longer.


	6. Another Victim

**-Chapter 6-**

Merlin was getting worse. He knew it, even though Gaius hadn't said a word. Pitiful looks of sadness and regret flickered over the physicians scraggly face. The warlock was certain that there were even more lines etching Gaius's face (especially around the mouth and eyes). Gwen was way too perky. She was actually almost hyperactive. Morgana was the only one who treated him normally.

"You know, Merlin, Arthur's being a giant ass right now," Morgana said as she sat down on the edge of the warlock's bed, "The poor servant, George, is being worked twice as hard and for twice as long. I think Arthur has forgotten that there are only twenty-four hours in the day. The only thing that sweetens the deal is that George is driving Arthur crazy with jokes about brass." Merlin frowned. "How can even make a joke about...brass?" Merlin asked.

"Honestly, I don't know." Morgana said. She stood and straightened her dress. "Well, I have duties to attend to. Feel better soon. Someone needs to kick some of the prat out of Arthur. If you don't, I will." Merlin grinned and shook his head. "Whatever you say, Morgana. I'll see you later," he said, watching as Morgana rose up and left the room.

The conversation actually made him feel a little better. Maybe he should try getting up. He didn't plan to go far - just to the main area of the house.

Slowly, he sat up. Merlin moaned and grabbed at his temples. A wave of dizziness and nausea had hit him like a wave and while it had seemed crippling for a moment, it slowly passed. Swinging his legs over the bed, he eased from the mattress. Wavering on the spot, Merlin steadied himself.

With sluggish steps, he made his way downstairs, where Gaius was cooking dinner. "It smells good," Merlin commented, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to eat much of it. Gaius turned. He looked surprised to see him up." Shouldn't you be resting?" he asked.

"It's all I do! I'm sick of it. If I only have a few weeks left I want to enjoy it," snapped Merlin. His gaze hardened as he balled his hands into fists. "And you're not going to stop me!" Because of his annoyance, his powers malfunctioned. The fire in the fireplace roared and grew taller.

"Calm down, boy," shouted the man

Sighing, Merlin unfurled his fingers. As he calmed, the fire went down. "I'm sorry," whispered Merlin, hanging his head. "I didn't mean too..." Gaius put his spoon down and went over to the sickly boy. "I know. I know," he said, hugging Merlin. There was no hint of anger in the physician's voice; it was only filled with concern for the boy.

The physician hugged Merlin as if life depended on it. Aged hands rubbed small comforting circles on the boy's back. Gently he led Merlin to the nearest chair, helping him to sit down before grabbing another chair and bringing it over so he too could sit down right beside the warlock.

Merlin let himself be comforted by Gaius, but only for a minute. He wrapped his fingers around the physician's robes and hugged the man in return. The warlock felt a thickness and heaviness come into his throat. Tears burned the corners of his eyes, but he didn't let them fell. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Crying seemed like a step beyond giving up.

"I know this must be very hard for you Merlin," Gaius began, studying the warlock who was sitting beside him, "I really can't imagine what you must be feeling and going through. I promise you that I will never give up on you, I will keep searching until I find something that can help you, but I need you to trust me too." Gaius said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You don't understand! How could you? Gaius, I'm dying. Every day, I am closer and closer to ceasing to exist. This isn't how it's supposed to be! I'm supposed to help Arthur create Albion. How can I do it when my ashes'll be fluttering through the wind?" Merlin replied.

He sighed in annoyance as he stared at the fire. "There's got to be a way to help me. I don't want to die, Gaius. I don't. What about the druids? They could cure me, couldn't they?" he asked. "And what about Kilgharrah. He could cure me, maybe…or fry me to a crisp."

Merlin held his head. All of this thinking was making it hurt. "What about you? You used to do magic, didn't you," he asked. "Uther let you use it on Arthur when he was dying. Can't you use it on me and we just not tell him?"

_MERLINMERLINMERLIN_

Prince Arthur rubbed his scraggly beard as he sat in the tub. George had poured him a bath, making the temperature of the water absolutely perfect. In thanks, Arthur had done little more than dismiss the man with a full load of dirty laundry in his hands.

Arthur hadn't slept well for the past few days; he couldn't even remember what a full night's sleep was anymore. He was worried about Merlin, so much so that without even realizing it he had become what he abhorred; an arrogant ass of a man whose attitude would even put King Uther to shame.

He grasped his hands tightly, keeping them under the water. He squeezed hard, feeling the muscles and tendons pop because of the pressure. Arthur was doing this because he felt so helpless. The one thing that Merlin needed was the one thing the Prince could not offer; magic. It had pained him greatly to say no because he didn't want to lose his best friend whom he thought the world of but Arthur had a duty to protect Camelot and its people. He hated the fact that he had had to choose between them, but Camelot came first; it had to.

George returned promptly fifteen minutes later with a stack of clothes. "Sire, it's time to get dressed," said the servant. He practically pulled Arthur out of the tub and scrubbed him dry. He worked so vigorously, that Arthur's arms, legs and chest were bright pink.

"I have your clothes ready for the flower show," he said. "Arms up." George yanked both of the Prince's arms up over his head as he shoved a cream-colored silk shirt down. Lowering the man's arms, he slipped Arthur into the green trousers. Taking a cloth out of his pocket, he began to polish the buckle of the belt. With it gleaming, George slipped it around Arthur's waist.

"Did I tell you how the kings reaction to the brass egg who was dropped off a citadel? No?" the man said. "He was hard boiled to find the perpetrator." George chuckled as he synched the belt around Arthur's waist.

Arthur seemed to be in a world of his own. So much so that he offered little protest to being pulled out of the warm water and toweled dry. He wasn't really listening to George anyway. Why should he? The man was seriously boring and then there were his stupid jokes about brass! Really there was only so much a person could take before they simply stopped listening.

"Yes George that's very amusing," The Prince began in a tone of voice that suggested he was anything but amused, "but if you ever mention brass or eggs again in the same sentence I'll have your tongue cut out."

Under normal circumstances Arthur would have _never_ said that to anyone but this was not a normal circumstance. He was fed up with everything; fed up with being helpless, fed up with Merlin being sick…just fed up with the whole God damn mess in general!

More than once he had contemplated taking the evening dinner knife and slashing his wrists if only to end it all but as of yet he had never done it. For a man who was courageous enough to fight battles, when it came to killing himself he was downright terrified. Arthur knew it was his destiny to rule Camelot but he couldn't do that without his friend. He couldn't explain why that was, only that he knew he couldn't.

Camelot comes first; he remembered saying that in the past; remembered meaning it as well but now as he stood there in his chambers he felt like he couldn't do it; could rule the kingdom that he loved without his friend being there. It was a little strange how attached to Merlin the Prince was, but Arthur was very attached which was why everything had hit him as hard as it had.

Tired, pain filled eyes suddenly focused on George who looked nervous and scared. It took the Prince a moment to figure out why that was but when it came to him Arthur sucked in a deep breath.

He knew he should apologize to the younger man but Arthur couldn't bring himself to do so because he had meant every word that he had spoken.

"Get out and leave me be." He ordered.

George frowned at his master. He sure was acting off. First the King banned him from saying anything about brass and eggs in the same sentence and now telling him to leave. Oh, the injustice of it all! However, he did not protest. Instead, George bowed.

"Very well, sire. I will come get you when it is time for the flower show. Oh, I just remembered! Your father wished for you to have riding lessons after that as well as a short jousting practice," he informed the Prince. Bowing a second time, George left.

Soon after, Morgana came into the room. "George seemed flustered. What did you do to him, Arthur? Did you threaten to get rid of all the brass in the Kingdom? What would that man talk about if you did that, she asked.

The woman sat down in a chair and grabbed a grape. Popping it into her mouth, she chewed and swallowed. "He's scared, Arthur. He hasn't said it, but he's scared," Morgana said. "We've got to do something for him! He doesn't deserve to die. What if we took him to the druids or something? They aren't in Camelot after all and wouldn't be punished for their deed. They could help. I'm sure not all of them are bad people."

Morgana sighed and leaned forward. "Arthur are those grapes bad," she asked. "I would have thought George would get you fresh ones every day, but these seem to have unsettled my stomach," she said.

Arthur had gone to the window and was looking out of it when George had left. He had remained at the window, still wordlessly staring out of it when Morgana entered the room and started talking and helping herself to the bowl of five day old red grapes.

"Morgana," the Prince finally began as he turned away from the window to look at her, "those grapes are five days old. Eating them would turn anyone's stomach."

Morgana frowned as she shook her head. "Why did you keep them if they are five days old? Do they have something to do with Merlin?" she demanded. "That's disgusting. I thought I smelled wine when I entered. I just assumed you had thrown the decanter at George and the contents sprayed the curtains."

He said nothing about Merlin or the Druids. Of course the warlock had to be scared. Who wouldn't be in his condition? More than anything the Prince wanted Merlin to get well but at what cost? If Uther were to find out that magic was used in Camelot he would stop at nothing to find out who had done it and have them killed and while Arthur wasn't too worried about himself he didn't want to cost a person their life…even though that's what he was basically doing to his friend.

Finally Arthur bit the inside of his cheek. Morgana was waiting on an answer to her statement. "The Druids are not an easy people to find. If they were my father would have wiped them all out long ago. Most of them wouldn't even trust me or my father because of what he did to them. What makes you think they would be willing to help?"

Arthur didn't mention Mordred. Sure he had helped the boy get back to his people and that had probably earned him a little bit of leeway with the Druids but surely not all of them were on friendly terms with the Pendragons.

"You're right, Arthur. Story goes that they only are found if needed. I've also heard they are in possession of the cup of life," Morgana said. "You might never find them, but it wouldn't hurt…would it? You're not afraid of a difficult task, are you? Merlin would find them for you. You know that and I know that."

She shrugged. "They help those who need it. Merlin needs it. They might not trust you, but why would they not trust Merlin? He's done nothing to them. I would bet he would help them if he could," she said.

"I would hate that we gave up an opportunity to help our friend. I don't care what he consequences are. In fact, I damn them! Merlin doesn't deserve to die, Arthur. I don't care what Uther thinks. He's a fool," Morgana spat.

Arthur was silent. The Cup of Life. Why didn't he think of that before? Yes, the Cup could save Merlin, all he had to do was find it, fill it and then have the boy drink from it. Merlin would be cured in no time at all! Of course he knew that for a life to be given one had to be taken. In his heart the Prince knew he would be more than willing to die for the life of his servant.

"If the Druids have the Cup of Life...then I must find them." Arthur murmured.

Even as he was speaking Morgana had this strange look on her face. She smacked her lips a little, a strange dryness settling in her throat as if she hadn't had any water for years. Morgana felt her cheeks burn and then grow cold. What was going on? A moment ago she felt fine; maybe a little sick from eating that disgusting grape but now she felt weird, almost as if she was going to pass out.

"Arthur..." she murmured under her breath.  
The Prince turned his attention back to her just as she fell to the ground. As darkness closed in around her vision she barely heard her name cross Arthur's lips.

"Morgana...!"


End file.
